


Add it to the Tally

by Hihoneyimdead



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - My Hero Academia Fusion, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not Beta Read, Pre-Relationship, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29501631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hihoneyimdead/pseuds/Hihoneyimdead
Summary: Atsumu might have the hots for his roommate, but being a vigilante is kinda not great for dating. Too dangerous, and he'll be damned if he lets Sakusa get hurt because of him.His rival, though? That's another story.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	Add it to the Tally

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts from @sktsfluffweek on twitter
> 
> Day 3- Rivals to lovers + Heroes/Villains AU

Atsumu manages to scramble through the window and into his bedroom only seconds before he hears the front door unlock and the telltale sounds of his roommate taking his shoes off: the swears under his breath, the thud as he nearly falls over and manages to catch himself on the wall, the jingle of his keys as they’re tossed into the metal bowl on the coffee table.

“I’m home,” Sakusa grumbles, half-hearted and robotic. Must’ve been a tough day at work.

“I’m ordering dinner!” Atsumu calls.

“We have leftovers in the fridge.”

They have cake stolen from Suna’s birthday party last week, and they have a singular bottle of grape ramune. They also have four cartons of vanilla ice cream in the freezer that haven’t been touched in seven months, but Sakusa is supposedly trying to kick this whole “lactose intolerant” thing and won’t touch anything with dairy in it without any of those weird little pills of his, and Atsumu knows for a fact that he hasn’t been to the store in a week. Mostly because the store was burned to the ground by a villain with a fire Quirk a week ago.

Atsumu rolls his eyes and grabs his phone off of his bed, ignoring his brother’s messages from that morning, and pulls up the number of their usual Chinese place.

He can hear Sakusa’s usual routine as he orders for the two of them. The six o’clock flop onto the bed, followed by the six o’clock scream into the pillow and the six o’clock cough because Sakusa Kiyoomi is not meant for speaking louder than the average office worker. Five minutes, and the en suite bathroom door slams shut and the shower turns on.

Only the shower doesn’t turn on, and the door doesn’t slam, and Atsumu just hears a sneeze and a pitiful whine. Oh no. Sick Sakusa.

Atsumu wrinkles his nose and grimaces. Time to go shopping.

Dinner is a quiet affair in the Miya-Sakusa household. Mostly because Sakusa takes his dinner into his room to eat and leaves Atsumu to his own devices. Half an hour later, he reappears, mask on and yellow rubber gloves up to his elbows, and he does the dishes while Atsumu finishes dinner and throws wads of newspaper at the back of his head.

Today, though, Sakusa shuffles out of his room long enough to grab a carton of noodles and a pair of chopsticks before collapsing onto the couch with a pitiful groan.

Atsumu sits at the table and cracks open a beer. “There’s cold medicine by the breadbox.”

“We have a breadbox?” Sakusa asks. His voice is nasally, airy, and his words are muffled by the noodles in his mouth. “Since when do we have a breadbox?”

“Dunno. Maybe it’s a wedding gift.”

“We aren’t married.”

“No, but maybe we stole it from a wedding. ‘Samu and Sunarin’s last month, probably.”

“Who the fuck is ‘Sunarin’?”

“Suna?” At the lack of a response, Atsumu huffs. “Really? Suna? Kinda looks like a fox?”

“All of your friends look like foxes,” Sakusa sniffs. Literally sniffs. He then coughs and slumps further into the back of the couch, his head barely visible over the back of it. “I don’t know your friends.”

“You gave a speech at his wedding!”

“I was drunk!”

He was drunk. Atsumu has a video recording of his speech somewhere on his phone past all the neighborhood watch schedules and cat pictures and cookie recipes. He was drunk off his ass, too, so all he really remembers was something about love, marriage, sanctimony, and divorce rates. Osamu was in tears, though whether it was from laughter or anger Atsumu can’t remember.

He does remember him saying, _“You can’t drink wine through a mask, dipshit,”_ so it might’ve been anger after all.

“So we have a breadbox now,” Atsumu says after a brief moment of scrolling through his photo album. “And there is medicine by it. Thank me later by making me a pie.”

“We don’t even buy bread,” Sakusa replies. “And I’ll bake for you in your dreams.”

“Bold of you to assume I want you in my dreams.”

“Bold of you to assume I want you in my apartment. Move out.”

“I’ll move out when I get tired of looking at your face.”

“So I should expect the movers to arrive by noon tomorrow.”

“Nah, nine in the morning. I know it’s your day off, but you still gotta get up bright and early or risk upsetting your sleep schedule.”

Sakusa snorts. That snort turns into a couch, that turns into a wheeze, that turns into a groan as he slumps to the side, disappearing from view entirely.

Atsumu would be more concerned if his noodles weren’t getting cold.

The thing is.

The thing _is_.

Atsumu cares entirely too much about his roommate. They met through a mutual acquaintance who was arrested for petty theft and vigilante justice two hours later, leaving the two of them in her living room staring at each other and hoping the other would leave first.

They now live in that apartment, and last Atsumu heard, that acquaintance might be up for parole soon. She’ll probably want her apartment back. It’s still in her name, technically. The two of them just kind of never left, neither wanting to back down first. Hopefully she steals another guard’s toupee or something, because apartment shopping is hell and Atsumu would kinda just rather be homeless than live without Sakusa Kiyoomi.

They don’t have a lot in common. Atsumu is an extrovert, Sakusa banned parties almost immediately and locks Atsumu in his bedroom when one is suggested. Atsumu likes cooking, Sakusa is practically banned from the kitchen after the last time he tried making a pie (it was a good one, though.) Atsumu is technically unemployed, Sakusa works for an insurance company.

Atsumu punches people in the face for a living, and Sakusa works for an insurance company.

Being a vigilante kinda kicks ass. Like. A lot. It’s a good workout, and Atsumu has the freedom to save whatever people he wants without having to deal with any agency’s guidelines. Plus he doesn’t have to deal with the press, which is good because Osamu would actually, properly kick his ass if he found out that he was doing hero shit again.

But it’s also dangerous. His identity’s gotta be a secret or else the government’ll be on his ass, and Osamu’ll be on his ass, and that means that Kita’ll be on his ass, and that’s ten times worse than the government being on his ass. Plus there’s, like, the physical dangers or whatever. But he can deal with those, easy. He’s tough. Doesn’t stop him from coming home with a couple bruises or scratches or the occasional broken nose, though.

Sakusa, though? He works in insurance. He comes home every day and screams into his pillow and complains about how vigilantes make his job that much harder. Do vigilantes have insurance, he’ll ask, scrubbing a plate with the fury of a spurned lover. How the hell can his clients collect if the people who beat them to hell and back don’t have insurance? To that, Atsumu comments that maybe he shouldn’t be working for a company that insures criminals, and he always gets a sponge to the face in response.

He’s cute, even with his quirks. Atsumu’s seen the bottom half of his face maybe twice since they met, but he’s pretty sure he’s got dimples, and if that’s not enough to stop a man’s heart and clench it until it pops. He’s got a dry sense of humor, and he’ll join Atsumu in dropping coins off of the roof at random people if he gets bored enough. He watches reality television and gets too invested.

If he got hurt because of what Atsumu does for a living, well… it won’t happen. Not if he’s got anything to say about it.

Atsumu hears the police radio as he walks by. Ten minutes later, he’s climbing in through the back window of the liquor store and activating his Quirk as soon as he knows he’s going to land on a pile of crates. He tumbles down in silence, as do the crates, and the robbery beyond the door knows none the wiser.

He adjusts the bandana around his mouth, grips his baseball bat just that bit tighter, and opens the door a crack, expecting to see chaos unfolding as usual. Instead, he sees the crook doubled over and coughing into her elbow, barely standing, and a singular figure in a disgusting highlighter-green coat kicking the second crook hard enough in the chest to send her flying out the store’s doors and into the street.

Atsumu scowls and slams the door behind him (not that anyone could hear), cracking the remaining robber upside the head with his bat and ignoring the way the clerk huddling behind the counter stares up at him with adoring, terrified eyes.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” he asks, storming over to the other vigilante and dropping his Quirk.

“Maybe I wouldn’t need to do your job if you would do it yourself,” Virus responds, his voice muffled by his mask. “You’re fucking useless.”

“Says the man whose Quirk makes people sneeze.” Atsumu rolls his eyes and glances at the robber in the street, who, even while lying flat on her stomach and barely breathing with what are probably broken ribs, can be seen coughing a(punctured) lung up. “Wait ‘til you go up against a villain with a sanitizing Quirk.”

He doesn’t miss the way Virus stiffens at the mention of sanitization, the way his hand twitches like it wants to go to his coat pocket.

“You talk big game for a man who was beaten up by a little girl last week.”

Atsumu smacks his bat into the back of Virus’ knee just a bit harder than needed. “She could control fire. It was an unfair fight.”

Virus grunts and staggers slightly, shooting Atsumu a glare (familiar, but in the same way that seasonal allergies are.) “And the squirrel?”

“I’m allergic to squirrels.”

“Are you allergic to men, too?”

“Just ones with guns. Hey, Virus-kun, are you allergic to cats, or was that one just a fluke?”

“As much of a fluke as your battle with those U.A. brats was last month.”

Atsumu shudders involuntarily, hand moving to his shoulder where a kid with an accuracy Quirk sent a bullet with his name on it (literally.) Trying to get that bullet out was hell, but not as difficult as it was hiding said bullet from his medically-inclined roommate. Sakusa himself was in bed nursing a headache all night, supposedly, even if Atsumu heard his dumb volleyball podcast playing until midnight. Virus managed to get away mostly unharmed, unfortunately.

They glare at each other for a moment until Virus breaks the silence by sneezing and rubbing his eyes with a gloved hand. Atsumu maybe focuses on his fingers more than he should.

He snorts and flips his bat around in his grip, resting it against his shoulder, eyebrow raised. “You got yourself sick? Christ, dude, what happened to that control you like to brag about?”

“Shut up,” Virus says. “I’m not sick.”

“Nah, you’re sick. You look sick.”

Virus pales, just slightly. “I do?”

Atsumu nods, deadly serious. “Absolutely.” A pause, then, “Well, sick of me.”

Virus is back to normal immediately, elbowing Atsumu in the side hard enough to leave a bruise. “You’re lucky that I’m not infecting you.”

“And you’re lucky I’m not breaking your kneecaps. I don’t think your roommate would appreciate it.”

“And I don’t think your roommate would appreciate you dying of the plague.”

They don’t talk much. There’s some kind of basic vigilante code or whatever. To protect each other’s identities, they don’t talk specifics. But it slipped out once that Virus has a roommate that he’s hiding his activities from, and Atsumu mentioned the same, and maybe now their poor respective roommates are insult fodder. Atsumu likes to think that Sakusa would be happy to be used in an insult against someone besides himself for once.

“The plague?” Atsumu laughs. He dramatically wipes a tear from under his eye. “Dude, it’s the fucking common cold.”

“It could be the plague if I wanted it to be.”

Atsumu rolls his eyes. “Sure, sure. So what’s the tally up to? Five to seven?”

Virus shakes his head. “Six, seven. The squirrel, remember?”

Ah, the squirrel. That one was hard to explain.

“Uh,” the clerk shakily says. Both vigilantes turn to look at him, and he shrinks back a little, hands raised defensively. “I appreciate what you did, but the police are on their ways.”

He sneezes, a cute little thing not unlike a kitten, and, yep, there are the sirens, right on cue.

Atsumu winks at the clerk, who blushes, and then winks at Virus, who stares impassively.

“I’ll break your spine next time we meet,” Atsumu says.

“Not if I break yours first,” Virus replies.

Virus strides through the front doors with purpose as if he hadn’t just broken some girl’s ribs and given three, maybe four, people the worst cold of their lives. Atsumu, much humbler, just activates his Quirk and slips out the back the way he came.

Atsumu manges to get home before he lets himself start coughing, falling onto the couch with a moan. It’s noon, and Sakusa usually takes a nap on his days off to try and catch up with the sleep he loses on days he works. He won’t be up until dinner at _least_.

Unless he isn’t. Unless he is sat on the couch next to Atsumu’s head with a tissue pressed to his nose and his mask lowered for once.

Atsumu frowns. “The fuck are you doing up?”

“You’re sick,” Sakusa says, not answering Atsumu’s question. “How did you get sick?”

“From you, probably.” Impossible, considering how goddamn clean their apartment is. But it’s easier to say than saying that he caught a Quirk-based cold from his number one vigilante rival while out on vigilante business. “Seriously, are you good? You’re never awake this early on your days off.”

“I couldn’t sleep. Please say you aren’t sick. You’re a nightmare when you’re sick.”

“I’m a goddamn pleasure all of the time.” Atsumu tries to sniff pridefully, but just ends up sniffing hard enough to make himself sneeze. Sakusa flinches and scoots just that bit further away. “Hey, hand me the tissues?”

Sakusa gingerly passes the box of tissues over, and Atsumu just drops the box on his chest and groans. After a moment, Sakusa gingerly pats Atsumu’s forehead. His fingers are cold. Nice.

And then Atsumu notices the blood slowly dribbling down Sakusa’s chin and sits up quick enough to give himself a head rush and nearly bonk Sakusa in the chin.

“You’re bleeding!” he exclaims.

Sakusa winces. “Don’t yell.”

“Why the hell are you bleeding? You’ve been home all day!”

“Well, yes, but… maybe I fell out of bed a moment ago?”

It’s a question. He’s not certain.

Atsumu frowns and moves Sakusa’s tissue out of the way so he can see the issue, ignoring Sakusa’s protests. Split lip, and what looks like a broken nose.

He whistles lowly. Much like his hands, Sakusa’s face is cold to the touch.

“Fuck,” Atsumu mutters. “How’d you manage this?”

“...would you believe me if I said that I cut myself shaving?” Sakusa slowly says, shrinking back a little, though not making any attempts to really move.

It’s quiet. Too quiet. Atsumu’s breathing is the loudest thing in the room, light wheezes that Sakusa looks positively _horrified_ over.

“I got punched in the face by someone attempting to rob a liquor store,” Sakusa eventually says.

Liquor store…? Oh. _Oh_.

Atsumu laughs hard enough to make himself cough, and he only lets go of Sakusa’s face because the latter recoils and pulls his mask up over his face with shaking hands.

“What?” Sakusa demands, narrowing his eyes. “Wait a minute…”

“You got punched by that chick?” Atsumu wheezes. “She was a kid!”

“She was stronger than she looked!”

“And did you get _yourself_ sick yesterday? Holy _shit_ , you’re a fuckin’ loser.”

“Who’s the one losing our tally? I believe this makes eight wins on my end.”

“What?” Astumu gapes. “Absolutely not! I don’t count!”

Sakusa looks pained. “ _Please_ close your mouth. You’re spreading germs.”

“ _I’m_ spreading germs? You’re the one with a germ Quirk!”

“I’m moving out.”

“Oh, no, never.” Atsumu grins and pulls Sakusa into a loose side hug. “You’re stickin’ with me. We’ll be an unstoppable duo!”

“I’m breaking up with you.”

Atsumu blinks. “We aren’t even dating.”

Sakusa sniffs, though Atsumu can tell he’s smiling. It’s his eyes, mostly, and the tone of his voice, the way it lilts slightly inwards. Or something like that, anyway.

“I’m acting preemptively,” he says. “Shut up.”

“Never,” Atsumu smirks. He leans closer, as does Sakusa, and, wow, he smells like fucking hand sanitizer, fucking nerd.

Atsumu sneezes, and Sakusa shoves him off of the couch.

“Go take a fucking shower,” he snaps. Then, quieter, “Then we’ll talk.”

Atsumu hasn’t gotten in the shower this fast in his goddamn life.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/hihoneyimdying?s=21) if you want! 
> 
> I was an idiot and decided to make a MHA au even though I haven't seen the damn show. This isn't the best thing I've ever written, but it's negative degrees out and I can't feel my hands, so I think I did pretty alright.
> 
> Here are their Quirks, anyway, and sorry if they're too op or anything, I haven't seen the show, so idk what's standard or taken or whatever:
> 
> Atsumu- 
> 
> Quirk: Pianissimo 
> 
> This quirk allows its user to silence an area of ~10 square feet around him. This basically nullifies any and all sound-based quirks, and silences any verbal or spoken communication between anybody in the radius. However, the user cannot hear out of the radius while it is active, and it requires a significant amount of focus to keep active. He can still fight and shit, but if he even slips once, his quirk deactivates and he is left defenseless against whatever it was he was guarding against.
> 
> Sakusa- 
> 
> Quirk: Disease
> 
> This “unnamed vigilante” can emit an airborne virus with his breath, though doing so risks him getting sick as well. The virus' symptoms rarely get worse than the common cold, but they act quickly, rendering the infected a sneezing and wheezing mess within ten minutes. The virus can be cured the same way a common cold can, and the symptoms generally don't last much longer than 24 hours depending on how long they were exposed to the virus.


End file.
